By Marianne Mancusi
If Chrissie Hayward knew that morning she'd be going again in time to rescue her loopy coworker Kat, she'd have worn higher sneakers. Doubly so if she'd anticipated to satisfy her real love. based on the mysterious gypsy, Chrissie used to be the "gentle soul who may tame an outlaw's thirst for revenge" -- aka the genuine Robin Hood. So how come the fellow was once the sort of dud? LOST...IN SHERWOOD woodland? No, Robin of Locksley was once no Prince captivating. And the half approximately robbing the wealthy to feed the bad? He did not get the memo. actually, all of the man appeared to do used to be mope. (And he and his not-so-merry males concept Chrissie was once a boy. convinced, she wasn't stacked, yet still!) still, he was once dependable and courageous and good-looking as sin. If Chrissie coudl simply get him with the application, she may perhaps correct his wagon and get those boyz'n the wooden to be heroes of the area rather than twerps in tights. purely then may this prince of thieves develop into king of her middle.
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If Chrissie Hayward knew that morning she'd be going again in time to rescue her loopy coworker Kat, she'd have worn larger sneakers. Doubly so if she'd anticipated to fulfill her real love. in accordance with the mysterious gypsy, Chrissie used to be the "gentle soul who may tame an outlaw's thirst for revenge" -- aka the true Robin Hood.
Extra resources for A Hoboken Hipster in Sherwood Forest
As long as I never have to cross paths with Kat again, it'll be worth the risk of permanent Tabitha-induced hearing loss. I duck into the gypsy's tent, blinking a few times as my eyes grow accustomed to the darkness. " The gypsy is sitting at her little crystal ball table, right where we left her. A tiny gnarled woman dressed in gaudy mauve robes and dripping with heavy gold jewelry, she's hunched over, perhaps suffering from some serious rheumatoid arthritis. Poor soul. Hopefully she doesn't have a heart condition or anything, because what I'm going to say next could send an elephant into cardiac arrest.
I raise an eyebrow. Even an insane Kat Jones wouldn't give away those shoes. "Fine," I mutter. "But you owe me. Big-time. " Not that I'd ever wear such uncomfortable shoes, but surely there's a market on eBay for them. "She won't laugh. Seriously. " "Okay, okay. " I click the End button on the phone and trudge back to the faire. I reveal my wristband to the ticket taker, halfway hoping she'll tell me there's no readmission. But she simply waves me through. I push past the turnstile and take a left toward the gypsy tent.
So help me if I get a sty. But I sigh and give in. After all, I don't have a lot of alternatives at this point. Robin moves behind me and places the rag around my head, tying it in the back. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck as he concentrates on the knot. Instant goose bumps. Why the heck am I so damned attracted to this guy? Is it simply the bad-boy factor? He's an infamous outlaw, after all. Or maybe it's my practically single status. I can't exactly remember the last time Danny and I made love.